


Dangerous Instincts

by Coffeebookboy



Category: Basic Instinct (Movies), Casino Royale (2006), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Espionage, Hannibal Extended Universe, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, London spy references, M/M, Serial Killers, Sexual Violence, raremeat, royaleinstinct, title is a work in progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22522891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffeebookboy/pseuds/Coffeebookboy
Summary: Adam Towers, an investigative journalist with an addiction to thrill, is assigned the opportunity of a lifetime. Track down and interview the infamous LeChiffre. But that’s not all he’s seeking.
Relationships: Le Chiffre/Adam Towers, Nigel (Charlie Countryman)/Adam Towers
Comments: 23
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

In the early morning, the sun cut through a gap in the shutters. A piercing beam finding trembling eyelids. Adam scrunched his face and rolled away from the light, seeking the blissful darkness of the rest of the room and happily burying his face into the colder half of his pillow. Then, just as he thought he could drift off again, a tinny ring set off, startling him awake. He groaned in frustration as it looped and looped, finally reaching a hand over to grab the phone and smacking it to his ear.

“What?” He dragged the word out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He didn’t open them.

“Why aren’t you at your desk? We agreed we’d go over your next assignment this morning.” The voice of his latest project manager, Cindy, felt like a drill in his skull.

“We were.”

“And what happened?”

“I decided I valued sleep more than another godforsaken interview with a pseudo-celebrity that no one will read.” He sat up, glancing around the room in search of his socks from the previous day. The cold floor didn’t seem inviting.

“We’ve talked about this. Sometimes the work isn’t great. Sometimes it isn’t even good. But it keeps the lights on when sales are down. You get out there and you always manage to scrounge up some dirt. You make uninteresting people  _ seem _ interesting. That’s what I pay you to do. I don’t know what the last person in my position told you, but I’m telling you now, you need to get to work on time even on the days you don’t _ feel _ like it.”

At this point he wasn’t really listening. Shuffling around the room getting dressed, phone pressed to his ear with the volume sliding ever lower, he was thinking about whether he should make coffee or pick it up somewhere.

“Yeah yeah. Put the words on the damn page I get it. My last boss read my fucking work.”

Exasperated, Cindy cut in, “I’m not your-“. He hung up.

“Fuck.” He sighed. Why did everyone have to be up his ass this week? And last week it was his Dad. First he’d heard from any family in a year. Good to know they still cared. He raised the blinds and blinked into the light until his stomach grumbled. Catching a glimpse of his reflection in the floor-length mirror gave him some confidence at least, still looked decent with bedhead and nothing on. 

Clothes first, then a granola bar.

____

  
  


“Are you kidding me? This is way above my paygrade.”

“Come on Adam, you’re the only one who would probably be crazy enough to do it. I had to ask.”

“Well I’m not, alright? And you shouldn’t have.”

“Just think about it.”

He knew he would. Think about it, that is. An interview with a man who had no direct contacts, no public face to the name. And a known associate of major criminals. It could be his big break as an investigative journalist. It could get him out of writing for tabloids. It was incredibly dangerous but that was the least of his concerns.

Adam didn’t want to approach LeChiffre because that man knew everyone’s secrets. And Adam had more than enough.

Cold, untouched coffee still in hand, he tossed it in the trash and slid past reception.

“See you later, Alice!” He called to the receptionist.

“I hope not! Blowing off the boss to go clubbing again?”

“Sort of.” He held the elevator door to finish his conversation. “Sort of on the job.” He let the door slide shut with a  _ ding _ .

Adam had a contact, a sort of reliable informant. If anyone knew where to find LeChiffre, he would. Heading to the seediest strip club in New York City in broad daylight was a good way to pick up unwanted attention. He kept his convertible roof up and was grateful for tinted windows and sunglasses. He came here often enough in the cover of night that he knew the way by heart, taking back alleys that belonged to the friendliest gang and parking where his car would be recognized and  _ most likely  _ protected. It was only a block away now and he shot a text to the club owner, not that the man ever checked his phone before 10 pm. Or after 4 in the morning for that matter.

A young man about his age, but looking ten years younger judging by his frightened demeanor greeted Adam at the door with a nod. There was no need to check a list and it didn’t matter that they weren’t technically open yet. He stepped into the dimly lit building with a sigh and breathed in the familiar and stale smell of an empty business. Girls in half-costume half sweats that showed off the lines of their g-strings wandered the room getting ready and finding their things. The music was quieter than it would be later on but somehow just as invasive thrumming through the floorboards and rattling his nerves. Adam wasn’t sure how he could repay a favour like this one from the gang’s club and he’d already racked up quite a list of debts to the owner. So he’d keep this visit friendly, casual. No pressure. Just curiousity.

“Well hello gorgeous.”

“Hello Nigel.”

He was greeted with a genuine, if not rib crushing, hug and a kiss on the cheek. The taller man wearing a brand new white wife beater tank tucked into decent pants looked deceptively put together. His wet hair sticking to his forehead until he pushed it up and away to get a better look at Adam.

“You showered. For once.” Adam observed, no snark in his tone, mostly teasing. Nigel grinned like a shark. And he was one.

“Well yes. Had to be decent for the company.”

“You didn’t expect me, and you wouldn’t bother for anyone else. What’s going on?” Adam asked. Nigel’s smile dropped.

“I’ve been served.”

“Served? …Arrest? I don’t understand.”

“No no.” The stink of cheap booze lingered over expensive cologne, a nerve ease until he dipped into something harder, Adam would bet. “Divorce papers.”

“Shit. Will you sign them?”

“Fuck no. That bitch can’t get rid of me that easily. We made our vows. She’ll fucking keep them.” The sharpness in his voice would’ve startled anyone else, but his employees and Adam both were accustomed to his smooth veneer breaking apart every few minutes with rage. He was off his hinges, Nigel.

“Well. I have good news.” Nigel grinned once more, gesturing for his guest to take a seat. He slid in after him, effectively trapping Adam in the booth for the time being. One of the girls strolled by without any pants and he stretched out to smack her ass, making her jump.

“Disgusting…” She whispered to herself and he licked his teeth. He then turned his attention back to Adam.

“Tell me the good news. Are you coming home with me tonight?” He’d lowered his voice slightly, but his tone remained a shabby attempt at seductive. Casual enough he wouldn’t seem desperate (he wasn’t), and insistent enough that one was inclined to think saying ‘no’ wasn’t an option.

“Maybe, but no. That’s not it. I’ve been asked to do a piece on someone important.  _ Actually _ important. No more washed up actors if I play my cards right.”

“So why are you here?” Nigel eyed him up, hand sliding up Adam’s thigh in an overly familiar manner that screamed ‘entitled.’ “You want my help? Again.” 

Adam sighed and plastered on a cheeky smile.

“No, I  _ need  _ your help. But not just yet, I’m just here to visit today. Is that a crime?”

Evidently, it wasn’t. After an hour in Nigel’s office left Adam almost satisfied and plenty sore, Nigel had decided that Adam appreciated him enough to warrant another favour. The music downstairs had gotten louder and now the midday crowd of alcoholics and spoilt rich kids had arrived to get shit-faced on a Saturday before getting even more shit-faced as it turned into Saturday night.

Nigel made a face and took a seat behind his desk, cracking his neck, stretching his arms this way and that, and looking far too pleased with himself.

“Well then, how about that favour, gorgeous? What would you like to know? Do you know the name of this important someone?” He sounded bored already, but he had an unsettling grin etched into his face.

“I know a name. But not much else. I need a contact. I’d like to arrange a private interview.”

Nigel unlocked a drawer in his desk and dropped a hefty bag of cocaine on the surface he’d just had Adam sprawled across.

“I’m supposed to test the product. New batch.” He explained, although he didn’t need to. Adam knew the nature of his business. His real business. He was only here because of the Romanian gangs in the first place. Nigel thought of himself as some kind of drug lord, but that was beyond exaggeration. Why he felt the need to mention this now, with Adam in the room, was easily guessed. It was there for his own use.

“No.” Adam countered, before he could be asked.

“No what, baby?”

Nigel stuck a finger into the powder and rubbed it into his gums, raising up a crooked lip like an angry dog. He would’ve looked menacing to a stranger. Adam laughed lightly and shook his head.

“No I don’t want any. I have a routine drug test coming up at work.”

Nigel heaved a sigh and cleared his throat.

“That’s too bad. Here I was thinking you wanted my help.”

Adam scoffed. He leant forward to catch his eye.

“You can’t be serious. I thought we were friends.”

A pause. Nigel eyed him up for the second time and held his gaze.

“What’s the name?” He sounded calmer now. Which was ironic. But he was already cutting a line and stuck a freshly lit cigarette between his teeth. The spark of the lighter lingering longer than necessary in Adam’s mind as he watched the flame before speaking.

“LeChiffre.”

Nigel choked on his spit and nearly dropped the cigarette from his lips, snatching it up and glaring in disbelief.

“You fucking what? What the fuck did you do?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Adam lowered his voice, unwavering. Now he wanted this more than ever. Someone Nigel was scared of? Unheard of. “Who is he?”

“No. Get the fuck out. I’m not getting involved.”

Adam sat back in his seat, but didn’t move to stand. He fiddled with his scarf in his lap and watched Nigel intently. A minute or two passed and the gangster made no move to kick him out of his office. He cut his line and snorted it, shoving the bag back into the desk and pulling out an Altoids tin that rattled with something that probably wasn’t mints.

“Can you just get me in contact?” Adam asked. Nigel didn’t respond. He shook the tin and looked up with a slightly more pleasant expression.

“You coming home with me?”

“Maybe.”

This was undoubtedly the longest they’d sat in a room together without talking, fucking, or putting on some kind of noise. It was just… silence. The air was too thick and yet too thin. The cigarette burning away in an ashtray untouched. Finally, Nigel seemed to decide something, but he still seemed uneasy. He scratched at his jaw.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He said. Adam was happy with that, he thought. He was intrigued at the very least. Electricity hummed through his bones and he could’ve sworn it was audible. He had a certain hopefulness that something interesting was going to happen to him. Something overdue. Something he’d been searching for with no luck. Nigel was smiling again, already high. He got up and walked around to Adam’s side of the desk, taking a seat on its surface. 

“Make it worth my time, baby.” He whispered roughly, holding out a small yellow pill and waving it in front of Adam’s face. Adam smiled and let out an amused hum, shaking his head as if to say, ‘you nasty, slimy scumbag.’ And even he wasn’t sure if it would be intended as a compliment or an insult. He was a little uncomfortable, but he usually was in Nigel’s company.

He looked closer at the pill he was being offered. It was a round pressed tablet made of some dusty powder. A little smiley face with x’s for eyes imprinted on one side. Nigel rolled it in his fingers and watched Adam like a hawk about to swoop on unsuspecting prey. The tablet was a pastel yellow colour, almost like powdered piss. The one thing that bothered Adam the most was, he didn’t know what the hell it was. He’d tried every party drug, every pill and powder known to man. He’d shot up and snorted and downed and drank until he’d forgotten his name for weeks. But he didn’t know that little yellow bastard. And he wasn’t that stupid.

“Nigel…”

“Shh sh sh.” Nigel hushed him, whispering to him softly. “Come on baby. Come on. It’s just a little pill. You’ll feel so good.”

“I should go. You’re in a mood.” Adam insisted. Nigel stroked Adam’s face delicately and then grabbed his face in his hand. He was trying to force his mouth open.

“Please, baby. Come on. You know you want to. Just stay with me right now. I’ll take care of you and you’ll feel so good.” His eyes were sharp and fierce, not glazed over like they were when he’d taken more. His tongue swept over his teeth and he chuckled, face too close. This wasn’t drug induced peer pressure. This was desperation hidden by a mask of dominance. Adam could almost smell it on him; the need to possess and intimidate, to make Adam forget why he’d come over in the first place. He wanted him to be his toy. He wasn’t afraid of Nigel. Not in the slightest. He wrapped his slender fingers around Nigel’s wrist and squeezed at a pressure point until he’d let go, the little tablet getting folded into the club owners fist. Adam hadn’t broken their gaze throughout the entire ordeal, showing that while he may play along sometimes and he may be a bit easy to get into bed… he was  _ not _ going to be intimidated that easily. Nigel looked disappointed in his own way. Grumpy.

“Fine.” He said. “Go home. I’ll make some calls.” Adam stood and ran his hands through Nigel’s hair; a comforting gesture rather than seductive, and pressed their bodies close.

“Thank you.” Adam kissed him and Nigel saw a twinkle of humor in Adam’s green eyes. He sighed.

“If my boys find you in a ditch I’ll be pissed. Just don’t come around here as a fucking ghost unless you want to hear ‘I told you so’.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Call me if you need to get out of town. Not that it would do you much good…” It was an uncharacteristically sweet offer. Adam knew that Nigel had that side to him. Even though they weren’t that close. In some other world, maybe they could’ve been.

“Okay.” Adam said, a reassuring lie. He had no intention of running. He would chase what he wanted until he caught it or it killed him. And he was good at his job. He picked up his coat and headed downstairs. Through the little window on the door of Nigel’s office, he saw him press the cigarette to his lips and raise his phone to his ear. Adam buzzed with excitement once more. 

Maybe this was a dead end. Maybe he was biting off more than he could chew. Maybe this was the one that got him killed. He almost hoped, for a split second, that it would be. What a thrilling thought.

___

The next morning he got a text as he was waiting for his toast to pop up. A blocked number had sent a single photo. He nearly dropped his phone on the floor, blinking in disbelief as he felt his blood go cold.

There on the screen was an impossibly high-quality photo taken through the window above his bed, only two minutes ago, as he had wandered from his bed nude. He looked to the window and at the end of his apartment and felt compelled to cover himself, to close the blinds that had always remained open. He lived on the top floor of his apartment building, the building across from them a full block away. His phone chimed a second time.

1 PM - 33 Park Avenue - Lunch

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full honesty, I might change everything about this later so it flows easier into chapter 3. It's rough, but advances the story.
> 
> I've been sitting on this chapter for MONTHS. About since I posted the first. I hope you enjoy!

Adam had left the house in a rush that morning, making his way to the nearest cafe. Coffee seemed more important at that particular moment than anything else. He couldn’t go to the police, and he doubted that Nigel would be able to do much for his current situation. He reminded himself that he’d been warned. It was unsettling, knowing he was being watched. He wasn’t afraid as perhaps he should have been. Instead, it was strangely exhilarating. And he had a lunch date with some nature of contact. That was a good first step, he reckoned. He wasn’t dead yet. 

When he stepped up to the counter, ready to make an order, one of the baristas called out his everyday order.

“Double Double low-fat cap with legs”

He thought that was odd, but assumed it was coincidence. He opened his mouth to make the very same order and the frustrated barista called out again. 

“For… Adam?” He stepped out of line. That was too odd. No one claimed it. When he stepped up and took it, assuming that perhaps it was too convenient a coincidence to go to waste. And he wasn’t going to let the coffee go to waste.

“That’s me I think.” He accepted it and rushed out before he could be accused of stealing a drink. It was his favourite place after all. Conveniently close. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he jumped to answer it a little to eagerly, only disappointed to find it was a second alarm and not a mysterious message. 

He hadn’t made it far, just two blocks away, when a sleek black Maserati with tinted windows pulled up beside him. He took a few quick steps to escape it and the engine revved, the car rolling along with him. 

_ ‘Right. Okay. Stay calm.’  _ He thought.

The driver stepped out, the car left running and came around to the street side, holding open the back door with a friendly smile. 

“Mr. Towers, I’m certain you’re to come with me. You’re expected.”

Again, Adam felt the eagerness rush him, putting a spring in his step. This was quite possibly the third most dangerous situation he’d been in. He threw caution to the wind and stepped in, thanking the driver. For abducting him, it seemed. Adam was surprised to find he wasn’t alone in the back of the car. A dark haired man in a slim suit sat next to him, tapping away at a tablet of unknown make. Presumably he was a secretary of some kind. He didn’t look up. It was very dark inside, impossible to notice any detail, even with the light of the tablet. 

“Where are we off to?”

“Lunch.” The driver said, “Reservations have been made.”

Whoever he was meeting must be of incredible influence, and of a paranoid nature. Sending a car to pick him up could be interpreted as impatience. Or discretion. A bit of both. He’d already been given the address and was on his way. He supposed that maybe he wasn’t expected to make any pit stops. Then again, he usually walked to work as well. Everything downtown was the same. Offices, shops, restaurants all catering to a certain caliber of person. A certain pricey lifestyle with high expectations. While Adams paycheck didn’t fit the bill, his attitude certainly did. And he came from money. It was all familiar and his apartment choice while it wasn’t luxurious was full of intent. As was everything he did. He’d done the dry social appearances, he’d asked the right questions and worn the right clothes. Met with the in crowd from the tip of the iceberg. But the underground had become more and more appealing since meeting Nigel. Nigel’s connections were all gang related, shallow and swayed by money to change allegiance and protect their own. He wanted to go deep sea fishing. 

His workplace may not share this ambition, but they loved a good competition for sale. If Adam wanted to pursue dangerous stories in order to remain their cash cow, they’d let him. And what would sell better than a peek into how the world is really run. Beyond the veil of the paparazzi, politicians and celebrities. Who is whispering in their ears? That’s what he was after. At first he assumed it would be big money. Certainly not some cult secret society that all the conspiracy theorists talked about. But even billionaires and multinational corporations needed advisors and guidance. All denied their political influence, shifting the blame. It was after he started asking these questions that he got some real answers. And it all came down to one name: LeChiffre.

He had a series of articles planned hook, line and sinker. Maybe even a book, if he lived long enough.

“What if I told you that all the overseas conflict, unnatural disasters and diseases occurring over the past decade are orchestrated by one party? But not at all for the reasons you think.”

Something like that. 

Adam wanted to rope people in with outlandish conspiracies, debunk the theorists, drop the facts, and leave the world to burn with more questions. Questions that no one could answer, because the answers didn’t exist. He wanted to be the one person in the world who  _ knows _ just to challenge himself to hold his tongue. A life filled with danger and power beyond the previously preconceived notions, and immense security. Knowledge was everything. 

He wondered if perhaps he would finally manage to make a name for himself only to disappear. But death wasn’t frightening. Under the circumstances, death would mean immortality. Now that was success.

Besides, life was a game anyway. He didn’t need the glory. He didn’t need to win. He only wanted to know how it works and who picks where the cards fall. 

He had one doubt. It was possible there was no real answer and he was chasing a ghost. It was possible that everyone was a puppet for everyone else. The possibility that those in the public eye only wanted him to suspect they weren’t responsible for their mistakes. That they had formed the underground so that “less moral” scapegoats could take the blame. Gangsters were notoriously blamed for assassinations far above their level of expertise. But someone somewhere knew what really happened. 

Adam sighed, his mind running so fast he thought it might start dripping out his ears. The man next to him glanced over for a fraction of a second and then returned his gaze to the tablet. That sort of disinterested judgement that he associated with his parents. The car slowed to a stop and his door was opened by the same driver. The man in the backseat made no move to leave. 

“Just step inside and you’ll be escorted to your table.”

Adam nodded, sipping at what was left of his drink and deciding he shouldn’t carry it in with him. There was a trash can on the street. Stepping inside he expected waitstaff to approach him and ask by name. The woman in front, upon hearing his name, simply nodded and returned to her station. His phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Taking a glance at the screen he found another message from the same number as before. 

_ Ten steps forward, ten steps right. Take the seat closest to you at the table in the far corner.  _

It placed him with his back to the room. He did so, sitting and taking in the room around him. It was a beautiful venue, very simplistic decorations. And it was comfortably cool inside. Warmer than outside, but below room temperature. Casual fine dining. 

His phone buzzed in his hand.

_ Eyes forward _

Boring. But he followed the instruction, stating instead at his phone sat in front of him. 

_ Did you enjoy your coffee? _

Oh. 

**_Yes_ **

_ Good. You would have been late had you waited. _

Adam heard a person approaching before the figure passed him on his right. It was the same man who had sat beside him in the car. But now in daylight, Adam could see him much clearer. He sat across from Adam and folded his hands in front of him, eyes finally lifting to take him in. Adam smiled despite himself. The man he thought to be a secretary had one piercing blue eye with a scar running through the skin around it. He was decently intimidating, broad shoulders and a slim waist. His stern expression betrayed nothing of his intent.

“Mr. Adam Towers, I presume?”

“That’s my name.”

“A pleasure.”

A waiter wordlessly approached and set in front of them a beetroot and arugula salad, with what looked like sesame seeds. It was by far the strangest behaviour from a waiter that Adam had ever seen. As if everything was already planned, timed, and rehearsed for convenience of the diner. He noticed that the staff didn’t behave this way with the other tables. 

“I’ve heard your name a few times now.” The man in black said. “You’re quite persistent.” 

“I wasn’t aware you’d heard of me.” Adam smiled politely, waiting until the other man had begun to eat before following suit. They sat in silence for a few minutes and then as wine was being poured, the man sat up straighter and for the first time, made piercing eye contact. 

“I represent someone you have been trying to contact. I am meant to ascertain your motivations and your curiousity, then satisfy the latter. If I am unable to do so, the situation will be dealt with accordingly and you will move on to another handler.”

“Handler, huh? You work for LeChiffre?”

The man showed no sign of recognition on his face, only nodding in agreement. He had an unusual appearance. Adam memorised it as best he could. 

“Where did you first hear that name?” 

Adam has sworn not to give up Nigel. There were probably very efficient ways of dealing with information leaks. 

“From important people that wanted to shift blame onto someone else. Originally I thought it was a myth or a black market business, but I did eventually dig up that it is in fact a person. A very influential individual. I’m not interested in unearthing anyone’s illegal business or exposing someone who wishes to stay hidden. I want an anonymous interview with the brains behind the operation. A peek behind the curtain, if you will. Just a peek.” He knew if he pitched it right, the idea was harmless enough. Unfortunately that also risked it being deemed a waste of time. 

The man across him let loose a sigh, tapping the table with his right hand. He checked his watch and displayed a mild irritation. Within seconds their waiter was at his side with the main course. He apologized, setting the plates down with shaking fingers and scurrying away swiftly. 

The man paid neither of them any attention, instead turning his attention to his meal. Adam was becoming impatient and his leg bounced under the table. 

“My curiousity isn’t being satisfied. Why was I invited here?” Adam asked. There was no answer. He observed now that the man’s eyes were different colours. The one with a scar across it looked damaged, blind even. It was almost white, with an undertone of blue. The blue was particularly odd, as the other eye was a deep brown. 

He didn’t have the chance to touch his food. By the time he remembered it was there, it was being whisked away, seeing as the man in black had finished. The plates were replaced with Affogato. Adam thought it was strange to have dessert after lunch. He reached for it, but the man held up a hand and stopped him. He didn’t touch it. He gestured to the waiter and it was taken away, evidently not up to par. The food had all been of incredible quality by Adam’s standards, but his date hardly seemed impressed. 

“Now.” He finally spoke. “Ask me a question. And make it worth my while.” A realisation dawned on Adam. He bit his lip and decided to make a gamble.

“You’re him.”

The man’s face betrayed nothing. He matched Adam’s gaze evenly and then stood. For a third time, he glanced at his watch and the corner of his mouth almost curved into a smile. 

“You might want to stay in your seat.”

Before Adam could ask why, he felt a creeping dizziness. As if a migraine was coming on. The world got brighter and then seemed to be fading. In less than a heartbeat, he was out, head thumping onto the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your patience. For reading. When I first came up with this I wrote the first few chapters in a rush, but my hesitance through editing has kept me from posting. The encouragement I've received along the way is really worth the world and I promise to beat my brain into submission so I can share this with all of you. 
> 
> I love to hear your thoughts in the comments, so don't hesitate to share. <3

**Author's Note:**

> I had a really fun time finally starting this up, been thinking about it for awhile. A big huge thank you to whiskeyandspite for betaing the first chapter for me and to my mutuals for keeping me motivated. Second chapter coming soon!


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